Flowers on Your Pontiac
by R.Polish
Summary: Quinn Fabray outcast. Santana Lopez new girl. Three parter probably
1. Chapter 1

I kid myself into thinking I can keep up with a multi chapter tale. I have an unhealthy obsession with "punk" Quinn, as well. Probably I can relate to her the most, style wise not baby stealing wise. Also, I don't watch Glee anymore. True story, so….this is off canon? Is that even the correct terminology? Whatever. Probably a three parter. Back story this chapter. Tension next. Smut next chapter. Maybe epilogue? Depends on responses.

**Key Notes:** Edit free lifestyle

No baby

Quinn's always been "punk"

Santana's a new student

Judy loves the lord, so that explains a few things in Quinn's ownership. Rusell ain't real.

* * *

One..two..three..four..five…si- "Aughhh." There it was. As the sweaty, bulky body belonging to her-to her what? Not really ex-boyfriend, not even a friend, and definitely not her current boyfriend, well as this guy she kind of knows rolls off her and lands without any semblance of grace beside her, she feels bored. Every time, she has these late night, early morning, mid afternoon meetings with the only person that seems to hold her attention longer the time it takes to blink in this boring little midwest town, she expects to feel something. Anything really. Disgusted, amused, tired, but the only thing she seems to feel is bored. She was so tired of feeling bored.

"That was great babe," she followed him with bored hazel eyes, as he reached over for a cigarette. Ever the gentleman, he lit hers for her and handed placed it into her lazy hands. She really hates when people lights her cigarette for her.

"Thanks," she grumbles out and inhales the taste of bitter tobacco. She also hates his brand of cigarettes. He throws her a cheesy smile as he pulls the soiled condom off with a snap, and tosses it towards a wastebin. Of course missing it, causing the used prophylactic to stick and slide down her portrait of everyone's favorite savior.

"My bad."

"You're cleaning it up."

"Course babe." She rolls her eyes at him before opening her mouth, closing it again suddenly. They sit there for a awkward amount of time until he speaks again.

"Something on your mind babe?"

She thinks about it. Theres a lot on her mind, first why is she allowing this guy to stay in her bed, second why is she still smoking this shit, and third about these tickets she needs to buy to go see WarPaint's show. So what comes out of her mouth next surprises her.

"Why do we do this Puck?" She darted her eyes back to slimy rubber defacing Jesus' shinning eyes. Of course he didn't tie it off she thinks.

Puck takes a sharp inhale of his cigarette, holding it deeply in his longs for a while before exhaling slowly. "Cause babe, everyone else here sucks. But me and you, we get it. None of this matters, it won't matter next month, next year, shit, it won't matter in a hour from now. This is fun." He pauses inhaling again. Quinn turns over to face his profile. He was very handsome she thought. Too bad they had to use a combination of school supplied samples of lube and spit, to gain enough moisture for him to comfortably enter her. "Actually, it isn't even fun is it?" He exhales looking at the celling licking his lips trying to order his thoughts. He sighs and continues in a dejected tone. "Quinn, you're big. Bigger than us, bigger than this town. You just sell yourself short cause you're scared. I'm easy, so you let me come around cause its easier to waste your time with me, than to think about what you really want."

"You don't know what you're saying?"

"Maybe not. I'm not as smart as you, I'm not as good with my words but, I get you Quinn. You're like the girl they make movies about, I'm just here to take advantage of a good situation." He smiles smugly, completely aware of what he meant to her. "I'm not going to kid myself into thinking I'm doing anything for you. I can practically hear you counting until I'm finished. Its not a turn on at all by the way." He smiles before turning to face her again. "You're gay Quinn. But more than that you're smart, you deserve better than this. Stop being scared. Stop settling."

She almost let the thought entertain her for a moment. She knew she was gay, she didn't need Puck to confirm anything for her. As much as an outcast as Quinn was already, she didn't need another thing to tear her away from the one true connection she had here. If she lost Judy Fabray, she wouldn't know what to do. But she knew what she wanted from Puck.

"Whatever." She rolls back over to her back and looks up at nothing. "I don't need you to tell me what I am, or what to do. I just need you to fuck me."

So she tells him what she wants. And so he complies.

* * *

Quinn Fabray stood out in this nobody town like a sore fucking thumb. It didn't help that her she was an only child to none other Judy Fabray. The only woman in their church without a husband, or a man of any sort to account for her wild daughter. They belonged to the only African American church around. Her mother and her were already outcasts in Lima without ever really meaning to be. Judy Fabray grew up in the south she couldn't fathom going to a church where you had to sit straight up and recite directly from the Bible. She believed that religion was an experience. So Quinn grew up watching her mother as she caught the spirit, clapped, and spun around proclaiming the spirit was in her. Quinn sat in awe, watching the movements of the people around her made to hold her mother. She didn't understand religion. She did understand this was one place she heard her mother sing. So she would go to church every Sunday just to see her mother sing and dance. Quinn wasn't always wild, even though she isn't very wild right now, in her youth she'd much rather put her pure white dresses to good use by turning them into a dirty brown at her local playground. Every time she showed up in front of her mother ruining another perfect dress, a lecture would go on for hours on how young ladies should behave. Instead of changing her behavior, she just requested her mother would buy darker color dresses. The two Fabray's were quite different when it came to material matters. Judy Fabray, even with lacking funds, would always find the time to pamper herself. Quinn on the other hand would be just fine in torn jeans and an old t shirt. The two would find trivial things to argue over. When Quinn was younger she had an affinity for painting animals on the pristine white walls of their home. After the 5th time Judy painted over the pictures, she allowed Quinn to paint all over the walls in her own room. The hobby didn't wane as Quinn grew older, Judy would eventually sit down next to her daughter and watch her paint. The one true constant Quinn had in her life was her family, and church every Sunday. Even in her older age, even though she had given up on the idea there was a God, she still went every Sunday to hear Judy Fabray's voice.

* * *

As time grew on, Quinn noticed more and more how much her mother and her were outcasts. Lima was hardly racist, so she didn't understand why people used to look at her mother funny when she mentioned what church they attended at PTA meetings. Quinn noticed how her mother's smile would never falter, even as she was questioned and the gazes of other mother's could only lightly be described as confused. Quinn used to go to school dressed in the dresses her mother bought for her. She never liked them, and even though her mother would allow her to wear jeans around their home, she never allowed her to go out in them. Up until Quinn was 11 years old every day she would wear a dress, a different color for everyday. Until finally she wore jeans. She packed them in her book bag and ran to the bus stop avoiding her mother's early morning good bye kiss. When she slipped on her jeans in the girls bathroom, the first jolt of nerves and excitement hit her. The first time she had that feeling in a long time. When she strolled down the hallway, all eyes were on her. She wasn't sure how to feel that first day. Later that evening when her mother came home from work, she called Quinn down and questioned her.

"I heard you wore jeans today." Her mother spoke to her across their kitchen table, the young girl was unable to make eye contact feeling her mother's disappointment wash over her. So she nodded her head, counting the lines on the tiles under her feet. "Can you tell me why?" Quinn raised her small shoulders and dropped then quickly.

"I like jeans." She responded her voice small.

"How did you feel in them?"

Quinn raised her eyes to meet her mother's. "Like you in the PTA meetings."

* * *

Now as a soon to be graduating student of McKinely High school, Quinn traded her dresses and jeans for more colorful gear. Today she had on her favorite pair of boots, which also happened to be her only pair, black Blake Doc Martens. Thigh high laced tights, that lead up to barely visible cut off shorts. Topped off with a old Hanson oversized tank and her favorite moonies. Just normal everyday apparel. Except in Lima. Where it was common to wear every combination of Aeropostal and The North Face. Since the first time she wore jeans her mother allowed her to dress in any manner she chose to.

"Miss. Fabray." She shut her locker and turned around just in time to watch Principle Figgins stroll beside her. His voice indicating urgency.

"Can I help you?" Hers came out smoothly.

"You're violating the school dress policy." He eyed her, "once again."

She leaned into her locker pushing her glasses in her hair to reveal hazel eyes lined in black. "I am aware."

"You know what this means, Miss. Fabray." She rolled her eyes waiting for him to continue. "In school suspension." His tone ominous. Her response lackluster.

"Whatever." She walked past him heading towards the dark room where the school held their problem students. It took Figgins a moment to realize that she just happened. He ran trying to catch up to her.

"Unless you want to do me a favor?"

"Whats the favor?" She replied not slowing her pace.

"I need you to show a new student around."

"No." She grunted towards a freshman causing him to fall against his locker.

"Please, no one else has the time. You have more than enough credits to graduate already. Plus, you're doing extraordinarily well in all your classes. You can afford to miss a day."

"No." She walked into dark class room waiting to receive a sheet of paper stating what she needed to accomplish for the day. Her mother was not going to be happy. She was certain that she would be grounded as soon as Figgins left the voicemail on Judy's phone.

Figgins was exasperated, he walked around asking her repatedly to do this one thing for him. Until finally a sick idea crawled into his head, "Miss Fabray. You will show this student around."

"I already said no." Quinn crossed her arms in front of her and put her feet on the chair next to her with a loud thump.

"Do it or I'll make you join Glee." Figgins said quickly.

"You can't do that." Quinn dropped her arms and feet quickly. Joining Glee would mean having to deal with Rachel Berry, the self proclaimed "star" of McKinely. Not to mention it would ruin her street cred.

"All I have to do is call your mom, tell her about this little singing group, make up some story about how it deals with the lord, and you'll be in forced to participate." Quinn leaned in daring Figgins to meet her eyes. Everyone in town knew about Quinn's mother and her love for the church.

"You won't do it."

Figgins unwilling to waver leaned into, "try me." They stayed leaned into each other. Quinn sitting up glaring at Figgins. Figgins leaned over her desk, not daring to break their intense gaze.

"Well, this is awkward."

"Get out Schue." They both said calmly. Neither one looking to the doorway towards the annoying teacher.

Quinn relented finally leaning backwards, "fine, you have left me no choice."

"Excellent." The principle rubbed his hands together. "She's in the office waiting for you right now." Figgins leaned back, walked towards the door, smiling to himself at his victory, "but first we have to get you some clothes."

* * *

Quinn found herself dressed in bright pink faux Adidas track pants that were entirely too short, a gray shirt that was entirely too big with bright butterflies interweaving with barbwire. At least she had been able to keep her shoes. The shoes truly made the outfit.

She followed Figgins into his office, careful to still make eye contact with the students passing by. She had an image to uphold after all. But in her current outfit, there was more snickering rather than fearful reactions.

"Woah, what is this tragedy?" Quinn looked away from the kids in the hallway to source where the decidedly foreign voice came from. "No offense, but yeah unless you're dressed like this for some kind of charitable reason, I'd rather not be seen with you." Quinn continued to stare looking uninterested at the girl in front of her.

"Whatever."

"Ms. Fabray meet Ms. Lopez."

"My name is Santana." The girl spoke again.

"Quinn."

"Whatever."

Santana Lopez was unlike anything that hit McKinley high. It was clear from her appearance, from her dark hair, and tan skin. Her look a unique combination of indifference and disdain. Quinn Fabray was taken aback.

For the first time in 6 years, Quinn was certain she was not bored.

* * *

yep yep well no promises on when the next bit will be up. leave a review if you don't mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Tried to get this out a bit earlier but I had to work my first major fashion show (yay) as well as attending my first semi major awards show/party thing (not yay). Life is extra busy at the moment. Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, etc. Still edit free lifestyle.

* * *

Part 2

Santana and Quinn from that awkward meeting in Figgins' office had become friends of circumstance rather than of genuine interest. After Santana threw out a slew of more insults revolving around Quinn's outfit- which Quinn had to admit were quite creative, they seemed inseparable. Outsiders may have truly believed they were friends. Quinn Fabray doesn't do friends. Santana Lopez doesn't need them. It just worked out that no one else held their attention long enough for them to learn their name. As much as they hated admitting it to themselves, much less to each other, it was kind of nice to have someone to talk to. You know, when they were desperate.

"This is your locker." Santana and Quinn walked side by side. Quinn was guiding Santana along the school in a very slow pace. Apparently, Santana didn't have classes today she came in early in order to figure everything out layout wise.

"As much as I appreciate you taking the time out of your day," Santana started to speak and Quinn tried hard not to roll her eyes at the blatant sarcasm, "could you not walk so close to me? I don't want people to get the wrong impression of me before my first day."

"What do you mean?"

"Well with the way you're dressed, it looks as if I'm friends with a blind charity case. i mean, I've been here for 10 minutes and no one has ogled me yet. I'm thinking it has something to do with you."

"First off thats completely insensitive, secondly they're not looking at you because you're with me."

"My point.. is proven." Santana threw out a disgustingly sweet smile and walked past Quinn.

"Where are you going?" Quinn shouted out turning around slowly. Santana ignored her and continued to walk away. Until she dropped her bag on the floor. As she bend over to pick it up, Quinn could feel her head drop and drop until she had a perfect view of Santana's ass. Quinn shook her head to awake her from the girls body. Only then did she notice every guy in the hallway, save Kurt, had their heads bent over much alike the way she did. The hallway that was loud and full of people suddenly turned silent. Santana did an over exaggerating hair flip and turned around walking back to Quinn. The boys heads immediately straightened and the noises returned. Santana strutted her way back to Quinn. Before leaning back against lockers with a sigh.

"See what I mean." Santana inspected her nails before continuing. "You're already ruining my potential in this school." Quinn wanted to tell the girl off, she wanted to tell her straight out she was being a bitch, but Santana seemed like the kind of girl that knew who she was and what she was doing. So Quinn responded in the only she knew would bother the girl.

"Then stay away from me."

* * *

Just as Quinn predicted, Santana did the opposite. The following day Santana was sitting outside on a curb in front of the school. Quinn could see her from where she parked her car. Santana seemed to be searching around for something or someone.

"Quinn, hey." Santana said as she walked past Santana.

"Hello." Quinn said as she stopped.

"Where are you headed?"

"To class." Quinn responded as if it was obvious.

"Nope, you're taking me back home." Santana rose up and grabbed Quinn's hand.

"No, I think I'm headed to class." Quinn turned back around still holding Santana's hand.

"No I have to go home and you have to take me." Santana pulled back.

"What do I get out of it?"

"What do you want?"

"I don't know?" Quinn stopped pulling finally realizing she won't get out of this.

"Well once you figure it out princess, let me know."

"What is this?"

"This my dear friend, is a 1980 Pontiac Firebird." Quinn walked towards the door of her classic car, while placing an arm around Santana's shoulder. It was her mother's before hers and now its her baby. It was in surprisingly pristine condition. The matte black look was threatening and the decal of an aztec style bird was printed on the hood. Her car was indeed a head turner. Quinn seemed to not notices Santana's grimace, when the brunette walked away from her. As Santana walked quickly over to the passenger end, she covered her face with her hand to make sure no one saw her enter the car.

"Well its ugly."

"Ok I'm walking back to class now."

"No Quinnie come on I need you." Santana stood by the door, tugging at the handle trying to get into her car.

"Alright, alright. Just stop pulling at the door so hard." Quinn got into the car leaning over to open Santana's side. Santana pulled out a wet wipe from her bad and wiped down Quinn's seats. "What are you doing?" Quinn rubbed her temple.

"Making sure I don't sit in something I didn't put there." Santana winked and sat down.

"Whatever, where are we headed to?"

Quinn drove around following Santana's directions until she arrived in front of a small town house. Quinn waited until Santana exited the car before pulling away slowly.

"Where you going?" Santana shouted at Quinn.

"Back to school." Quinn shouted back as she drove away.

"You pussy!" Santana shouted loudly into the street. Quinn didn't fail to notice Santana's smile.

* * *

Weeks had passed since Santana had arrived into the school. Yes she was sought after as Quinn had predicted. However, she didn't understand why Santana decided to attach herself on to Quinn.

"So I was thinking you should come over. Stay the night. You know whatever." Santana was leaned back against a row of lockers near Quinn.

"For what?" Quinn replied not paying much attention to what Santana was saying. She was determined to find her report card amongst the copious papers in her locker.

"You know for fun. Why does everything have to have a reason with you?"

"Busy." She really was busy. It was Pucks night tonight.

"Whatever, you know whatever it is you're doing won't be better than me." Quinn pulled her head back from her locker to give Santana a slow eyebrow raised look."I mean spending time with me."

"Sure you did." Quinn returned to the endless search of the elusive document.

"Listen here, I kind of have a thing going on. Since you're the least boring kid around. Your presence would damage my lack of amusement."

"Made no sense." Quinn mumbled back. She gave herself an internal high five for finding the report card. She eyed the grades. A, A+ A, A, A-. She proceeded to forge Judy's signature.

"I'm saying I'm bored and you make it-this is really hard for me to admit- but you're kind of not boring. So if you wouldn't mind not being bored with me, then we should not be bored together."

"Busy."

"Doing what?" Santana sounded exasperated.

"Pucks tonight."

"Ditch him."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cause I don't want to."

"Whatever Fabray." Santana pushed herself off the lockers and strutted her way out of the school. Quinn was thankful that Santana left her alone. It killed her to deny the constant innovations the new girl was throwing out to Quinn. She wanted so badly to go to her house. To see her bedroom. To throw her on her bed and finally taste the girl thats been the source of her recent masturbation material. She couldn't do. It would be too much for her to be surrounded in Santana's environment. To be truly overwhelmed by Santana's already testing presence. She wanted so badly so many times to slam her against the lockers and claim her in front of the whole school. To make sure no boy or girl in that tired piece of shit building would dare to move their gaze lower than Santana's eyes._ She's driving me crazy._ Quinn wasn't sure how much more she could take of Santana's lack of normalcy when it came to clothes, socializing, even walking. Santana had a knack of making everything overly sexual. Yeah sure sometimes it was on purpose, but the girl had this air around her. It smelled of, Quinn was very sure, the ability to make anyone into her bitch and they would gladly take the title. So no. She wouldn't go to Santana's house. She has too much control over her already.

Quinn remembered the first time Santana's hand was gracefully placed on the small of her back. Quinn was stuck in a crowd of high schoolers during a fire drill. She desperately wanted to go outside and smoke a cigarette, not one of Pucks Newports but her own American Spirits, she hoped the school was actually on fire for once. She forgotten her lighter in another bag. As she tried to push and prod her way through the mass of bodies all heading towards, what seemed like, the only exit is school, Quinn felt fingers being pressed in the small dip of her back. "Come on." The unintentionally sultry voice was so close to ear, she swore it is in her head. The lips of her "friend" had pressed gently against the shell of her ear. Quinn held back a small moan as the girl's fingers pressed tighter against her, directing her to another exit. One that the sheep seemed to ignore. Quinn was sure that her measly cigarette wouldn't calm her down enough. She wondered how a seemingly innocent touch, made her heart thump so erratically, as well as her clit.

* * *

It was 9:36pm and Quinn was standing outside Santana's house._ Stupid, stupid, stupid. _Quinn smacked herself in the forehead pacing outside of her car trying to gain the courage to walk up the driveway and ring the doorbell. She called Puck canceled on him. He didn't seem too bothered by it, a girl's voice was calling for him to come back, Quinn ended the call and made an oath to never ever allow him to put his penis near her.

"Are you going to stay out there all night?" Santana came out standing on the small porch, looking amused at Quinn's antics.

"I'm still trying to figure out if this is a good idea." Quinn shouted out from the street.

"Well when you're done having a mental crisis, the doors open." With that Santana turned back inside.

Quinn started to calm her breathing. _Nothings going to happen. You're just going to go in there, like a normal person, and do whatever people do that these things. _Quinn started to do weird hand motions, pressing the air in front of her chest down towards her navel. The crunch of the gravel on the street, was replaced by the small squeak of wet grass as she walked into Santana's house.

"Why aren't there any cars in the driveway?" Quinn asked blindly as she shut the door and locked it.

"Cause I don't have one." Quinn turned around to see Santana sitting at a bar in the kitchen, chewing happily on what appeared to be a handful of almonds. Quinn observed the house. It was nearly empty. A couch, small TV, coffee table, and rug graced the living room. The kitchen had two bar stools, one being occupied by Santana, so Quinn took the other one.

"What about your parents?"

"Don't have any." Santana kept chewing on almonds, smiling sort of, at Quinn.

"What do you mean?"

"Emancipated."

"How come you never told me?" Quinn's eyebrows rose.

"Didn't ask." Santana took the bowl of almonds, and walked into a room. Quinn followed her, she took in the sharpest breath when she realized where she was.

Santana's bedroom. It wasn't what she expected. Where she imagined dark blue walls, there was white, where she thought of hard wood floors there was cheap carpet. A full sized bed, replaced her inner image of a queen. A small TV, instead of a large plasma.

"So this is your room?" Quinn stood nervously at the door swaying back and forward.

"Nahhh." Santana grinned and laid back. "Come here." Quinn wasn't sure if she was talking to her, then she remembered she was the only other person in the room. She took quick but deliberate steps ignoring the creaking of the floor before laid down next to Santana.

"Will you tell me what happened?" Quinn played with her own thumbs.

"With what?"

"With your parents." Quinn felt Santana shift. Quinn mirrored Santana's motions. Propping herself on a elbow, to look into her face.

"Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to."

"You didn't want to earlier."

"I did."

"Why didn't you?"

"I don't know."

Santana sighed, "Why didn't you want to Quinn?"

The time for honesty arrived. "You scare me Santana."

Santana looked a but shocked, but then fell back on to the bed.

"Whats that mean?"

"Tell me about your parents." Quinn felt a bit bashful after her confession. She felt even worse when Santana left the room. Quinn fell on the bed. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _The first time she actually told someone how she felt and the reaction was unexpected yes. It was also, heart wrenching. Quinn was planing her escape, a window was to her left she debated leaving a note.

_Sorry for being awkward. Sucks you kind of broke my heart too. _

_Quinn L. Fabray _

So when Santana returned with two cans of Coke she was more than surprised.

"What are you doing?" Quinn was currently trying to pull the window open.

"Um its hot in here."

"Right right." Santana looked at her sideways before offering her a can. "Hey! Your shoes are still on." Quinn looked down her boots caked with filth she could feel her face get hot.

"Sorry, sorry" She fell on the bed, trying to pull her shoes off, unsuccessfully. She looked down to see Santana unzip her boots, pulling them off smoothly, exposing her mismatched socks. Santana looked up and smiled at Quinn before talking in an unrecognizable voice.

"Its ok."

Quinn gulped, obviously, before averting her gaze. Santana placed the shoes near door before sitting on the bed next to Quinn. She turned on the TV in front of her. A rerun of some trash TV reality show was on, providing background music.

Quinn couldn't be held responsible for what she said next, she was in Santana's bed, with Santana, exposing her feelings for the other girl. But first she had to tell her.

"San, I'm gay." Quinn turned to the brunette next to her.

"Whats that?" Santana turned quickly make sure she heard her friend correctly. She made sure to wipe her mouth. Some of the liquid she was sipping on, stumbled on to her mouth.

"I'm gay." Quinn repeated with certainty.

"Are you just saying that because of what I told you?"

"No." Quinn shook her head.

"Why are you telling me?"

Quinn turned her attention back to the credits rolling on the TV. "I kind of never admitted it to myself. I think I wanted to test out your reaction." _Thats not why. _

"Why me?"

"Why not you?" _Just tell her you like her. _

Before Quinn could formulate the idea of pushing the set phonetics of, "I like you. More than just a friend." out of her brain and through her mouth. She found herself thrown back against the bed. Abruptly. The soda she held in her hand was long gone, staining the floor it landed on. She felt the motion abruptly but still had time to observe how delicately her head landed on the softest of pillows. She remembered her eyes closing on impact, to forbid herself from falling she grabbed on the shoulders opposite of her effectively pulling Santana down with her. What she doesn't remember is how Santana's lips attacked her own. She does remember a sigh escaping her lips before realization smacked her against the skull

Holy shit, she thought.

* * *

Alright then see you all soon.

:)


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry about the tardiness. A bunch of excuses but yeah...

So….falling away from the original outline a bit. I think it would be interesting to explore Santana's side. The timeline I laid out in the first chapter is altered and hopefully you all won't mind the new direction too much. I'm also not going to write in Spanish…ever. Also, I understand legal processing takes a long time, but this is a story. This is also FanFiction, so….don't expect too much realism, from me anyway. No edit, no problems. Also, if I haven't thanked you personally for reviewing this its probably because I can't and so I would like to thank everyone for reading, reviewing and the like. Also, this chapter got really sad (I tried to make it a bit funny)…sorry I was listening to How To Dress Well and CRIM3S while writing this. Yep yep and its a bit short.

* * *

_November 22nd, 2011_

"Get out." The cold words sliced through the empty space of her family's living room. "Get out." It was said much louder this time a clear order that was only meant for Santana to oblige.

"Mom?" She didn't recognize her own voice. Her tone usually snarky and confident became shy and weak. Her mom didn't look up at her, the older woman played with the rim of her wine glass, she hadn't moved from the spot on her couch since Santana walked into her house. Instead of being greeted with the warm smells of whatever her mother had baked that afternoon she found herself face to face with her father Dr. Lopez. Her father never came home this early. After she finished with cheerleading she always came straight home just to spend time with her mother. This time slot between 5:40 pm to 8:20 pm was their time.

"Mom?" She tried again. The time the older woman looked up, tears brimming on her eyelids, crossing over the threshold into her glass of red wine.

"Do as your father says, Santana."

Santana was certain that was the first time her heart ever broke.

Santana came home that afternoon at the same time she normally would. Cheerleading practice ended earlier that day, giving her the opportunity to spend, what little time she had, to slip her hand up the skirt of a no name lower level cheerleader. Her sexuality was never something abruptly announced, it was just something that happened. When boys talked about girls Santana felt comfortable, when girls talked about boy she felt bored, but when girls talked about girls she felt right. Santana never thought of it to be a big issue. Her parents never discussed what a "normal" relationship looked like, they weren't the most religious family, so Santana never felt the need to come out to her family. She was who she was, she liked who she liked and her parents would love her no matter what.

At the moment Santana was struggling. She was in her car. Her mouth was busy moving against the cheerleader she accosted earlier in the evening, at the same time she was texting behind the girls head, while playing with the other girls breast. _This is true multitasking,_ Santana thought. Santana got bored of texting and turned on FaceBook. Her hand slipped, the phone fell, Santana's eyes widened as her precious iPhone started the slow drop, screen first to the floor. Luckily it landed on the opposite girl's hand. "What the fuck?" The girl jumped back at the the feeling of the phone landing on her hand. She picked it up before Santana could grab it. "You were on FaceBook?"

"I was about to be on FaceBook yes." Santana replied cooly.

"You're unbelievable." The girl scrambled out of Santana's car making sure to slam the door shut.

Santana sighed before making the short drive home it was nearing 5:40.

As soon as Santana pulled up to her drive way she knew something was wrong. Her dad's black SUV was parked near the front of the driveway disabling her from pulling into her garage. Santana groaned as a flash of lightening and sound of thunder became a prelude for rain to start pouring down. The dramatics of this moment, though amusing, did nothing to alleviate her sudden feeling of dread. Her mother and her were to try out a new batch of pumpkin spiced brownies. Instead of coming to a warm house filled with the smells of fall cooking and the warmth of a wood fireplace, she had to come home to her father's breath that smelled of bourbon and cold hard wood floors. Santana ran across her front yard, after parking her car by the mailbox, she hadn't brought an umbrella and the rain drenched over her. She put her key in the front door's lock and tried to turn the key. It didn't budge. Though Santana was confused she was more concerned about the wetness that poured over her. It wasn't yet cold enough to snow, but the rain water was freezing. It gave her skin the sensation of being stabbed with shards of ice. "Mom! Let me in!" She banged on the door repeatedly shouting hoping someone would hear her. Finally, her father opened the door with a quick pull of the door. He jerked Santana inside by her arm. His large calloused hand gripped her tightly enough to leave marks.

"What is your problem? Banging on the door, don't embarrass me anymore than you already have." His words came though his teeth, while he looked outside behind her frantically to ensure no one was watching her.

"Its raining, Dad, no one is out there."

"Don't call me that." He voice rang out as he slammed the door shut.

Santana's house was filled with her father's election gear. He was running for city councilor. All over the house were buttons, banners, poster and the like. All of them saying for City Councilor. In the mess Santana saw three trash bags and one of her pink suitcases.

"Whats going on?" Her voice trembled a bit. "Dad? What are you doing?"

Dr. Lopez ran a had through his dark hair, "I told you not to call me that." He sounded tired.

"What am I supposed to call you? You're my dad?"

"Not anymore Santana." His voice that was nearly violent a moment ago fell down to a near whisper.

"What?" She spied her mother sitting on the couch. Unwilling to look at her daughter. "Mom?"

"Don't call her that either." Dr. Lopez's temper returned.

"Will someone just tell me what the fuck is going?" Santana's inherited rage showed its face.

Dr. Lopez rushed past his former daughter and turned on the TV. Santana turned around at the sound of her voice emitting from the television.

_"You like that baby?" Santana was on top of some random blonde. The two girls were under a set of bleachers. Santana continued, to make her mark on the girl's neck as she lifted the girls leg to wrap around her waist. _

_"Yes…fuck." Santana smirked at the other girl's whimpering. She wasn't really doing anything either. _

_"Yeah?" Santana started to make a path down the girls neck. _

_"Yes God! Just fucking do it already." _

Dr. Lopez turned off the shaky video before it became too graphic. "Where did you get that?" Santana was trembling terribly. A combination of fear of what this meant and rage at whoever filmed this.

"It was sent to me. To my office." Dr. Lopez took out the DVD. "You have to leave Santana."

"What? Why?" Santana was frantic, she was vaguely aware of the tears running down her face. "Just destroy it no one has to know."

"They have copies Santana. I can't let this get out."

"You told me it was ok."

"That was before you were running around, becoming the town slut. I'm supposed to become city councilor while I have a lesbian whore as a daughter." Dr. Lopez looked Santana straight in the eye, his volume not raising. Santana hated this moment more than anything, she had to look right back into the eyes of her father. She hated so much that she inherited those same dark eyes. "Get out." The cold words sliced through the empty space of her family's living room. "Get out." It was said much louder this time a clear order that was only meant for Santana to oblige.

"Mom?" She didn't recognize her own voice. Her tone usually snarky and confident became shy and weak. "Mom please say something. Please stop him." She begged for her mother to look at her, to tell her its ok that they can make it without her father. "Mom please."

Her mother cleared her throat, "your bags are packed already. You can take the car but don't come back home." Santana a flood of memories that chose to appear. Her mother taught her how to ride a bike, to do laundry, to play the piano, to sing, to bake, to play soccer, she taught her to always keep her head up high. Santana's mother broke her heart, but she refused to put all the things she taught her to waste. She walked to her mother and kneeled down forcing the older woman to look at her.

"Well fuck you too, Mom." She got up took the DVD her Dad had been playing, she picked up bags, and walked towards her Dad. "And fuck you too, _Dr_" She walked out of the house making sure the door slammed. Ran to her car in the pouring rain and drove as fast she could to the local news station.


End file.
